One Day at a Time
by Sygmanthias
Summary: All they have are moments.  A series of short ficlets revolving around Tonks and Lupin.
1. Split

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

A/N: These are just some short ficlets, each based off of a randomly generated word.

**Split**

In his seventh year at Hogwarts, Remus Lupin had been the first in his class to master the art of Apparation. His fellow Marauders weren't all that surprised, as Lupin was the only one of them to actually have the patience and focus needed to properly execute it.

It was for this very reason that the werewolf in question found it so frustrating to be around a certain pink-haired Metamorphmagus, for it seemed that whenever he was around her, his focus was flung out the window, skipped down the street, and hopped a trolley straight out of town.

Much more alarming, however, seemed to be the way that he would gradually begin checking to make sure he hadn't splinched whenever he apparated away from her. It only became apparent to him the third or fourth time that he always double-checked the area right around his heart, and he worried if maybe the "splinching" wasn't another feeling altogether.


	2. Upstairs

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

A/N: These are just some short ficlets, each based off of a randomly generated word.

**Upstairs**

It was always one step forward, two steps back when it came to Remus. Unfortunately for her, those steps always seemed to occur on staircases, and with her clumsiness, two steps back meant falling all the way back down again.

Luckily, she usually had someone there to catch her when she fell, which always gave her a little hope that someday she'd make it all the way to the top.


	3. Judgment

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

A/N: These are just some short ficlets, each based off of a randomly generated word.

**Judgment**

The first time she met him, Tonks saw a tall, lanky man who didn't say much and who looked as if he hadn't eaten anything for days.

The first time he saw her, he thought she was the clumsiest witch he'd ever seen with the oddest hair preferences of any girl he knew.

Luckily for them, first impressions meant absolutely nothing to either of them.


	4. Interval

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

A/N: These are just some short ficlets, each based off of a randomly generated word.

Interval

There are moments, intervals when everything is calm, in which Remus muses on the possibilities of the future. He wakes up one particular morning just after dawn has broken, and the streaks of pink dotting the clouds remind him of her. He closes his eyes, lays his head back down on his pillow, and pretends that she is there, her warm body close to his as her chest gently rises and falls.

He opens his eyes, and the calm is broken. The clouds have parted, and rain beats down against the windowpane in sheets. He closes his eyes again, and her heartbeat becomes the rain, thudding maddeningly in his ears like drums. There is a sense of urgency, and panic, and fear.

Sometimes, he wonders whether these fleeting moments aren't just another reminder of the things he cannot have, of the unreachable hopes which tease him with mere dreams.

He lies back down and looks at the storm, his eyes unwilling to close again. He doesn't want to see something that can't exist. He doesn't want to be tricked into dreaming. He stares at the rain, at the black clouds which have gathered overhead, and a small, selfish part of him actually wishes that the war will come sooner. These moments of waiting, when he has time to think about what could be, are so much harder to endure.


	5. Follow

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

A/N: These are just some short ficlets, each based off of a randomly generated word.

Follow

He tells her to leave, that nothing can happen between them, and starts to walk away, hoping that she'll just leave well enough alone.

He really should know better by now; she's not one to give up so easily.

She follows him until he turns around, not realizing how close she really is until she pulls him into a slow, inviting kiss. He accepts the offering almost without thinking, his mind succumbing to impulse; it is the same sensation he feels whenever he indulges in a little chocolate, tempting and rejuvenating and so wrong, he knows, to have in excess, yet at the same time so sweet to savor.

"Nothing between us, huh?" she whispers as they pull apart. He looks at her a moment, half convinced that there might be nothing wrong in a little indulgence now and then—until the realization hits that he just can't do moderation when he's with her, and he pushes her away, creating space between them once more.

"There never was," he says, before turning and walking away, hating himself as he hears no footsteps behind him, and silently berating himself for wishing that he did.


End file.
